


Her Cup Runneth Over

by grelleswife



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Grelle is very soft for Hannah, Hair Braiding, Hannah is very soft for Grelle, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Trans Female Character, bisexual Grelle, female pronouns for Grelle, lesbian Hannah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 18:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19323970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grelleswife/pseuds/grelleswife
Summary: Demon and reaper share a quiet moment of intimacy as Hannah braids Grelle's hair. Miss Sutcliff reflects on her deepening feelings for the demon.





	Her Cup Runneth Over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CosmicLion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicLion/gifts).



> Written for a wonderful Tumblr mutual for the prompt "playing with the other's hair."  
> Yes, the title is indeed a reference to Psalm 23. :)

Grelle sat cross-legged on the floor of the demon’s cottage, eyes closed in quiet pleasure as the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window caressed her face with its warmth. Hannah knelt behind her, carefully plaiting her vivid locks into a lavish braid. When Grelle had stopped by for one of her usual visits, Hannah had longingly run her fingers through her lover’s hair and, lowering her gaze in what Grelle could have sworn was shyness, asked if she could play with it. “It’s like a comet’s tail, little one, or a blazing wildfire. And I have a weakness for women with a glorious mane of hair. That’s probably one of the reasons you caught my fancy,” she added, full lips curving into a smile as Grelle blushed. Hearing praise from such a lovely and well-versed “older woman” (Hannah had once told her that her age spanned millennia) filled Grelle’s chest with a bubbly happiness and unfathomable tenderness that were almost more than she could bear. These moments seemed to have been increasing as of late. Much to her bemusement, Grelle found herself growing more hopelessly smitten with the demon with each passing day.

_How do I keep falling deeper in love with you, darling?_ she had mused while Hannah conscientiously removed the day’s accumulated tangles. It was remarkable how the mighty, indomitable demon was capable of such delicacy, patiently working through unruly snags without causing her the least discomfort.

In the past, particularly during Grelle’s human life, this had not been the case. Her hair had been cruelly yanked and violated during beatings and other horrible “encounters” that she kept buried in the darkest recesses of her mind. Chopped off during her early days at the reaper academy, where “men” were required to keep their locks closely trimmed (they had paid scant heed to Grelle’s protests that she was not a man, but a lady). On occasion, clenched in William’s angry fist, her superior’s frigid composure shattered by rage when she managed to push him too far, desperate as she had been for _touch_ , even if it left her bruised and hollow afterwards.

Hannah was different, though. Her hands touched Grelle’s hair as if she were stroking a butterfly’s wing. She marveled at its length and fullness as she began an elaborate braid, assuring Grelle that the finished product would be splendid.

“All done!” the former maid declared at last. Hannah snapped her fingers, and a mirror suddenly materialized in front of them. Grelle grinned like a small child, exclaiming in wonder. Demon magic continued to astound her. “What do you think?” Hannah asked eagerly. Grelle inspected her lover’s work and beamed. Hannah had managed to capture her locks into an intricate, flawlessly proportioned braid, weaving in a series of golden hair ornaments that perfectly complemented the lustrous crimson. “Oh, thank you, Han,” Grelle cried, throwing her arms around the demon. Hannah wrapped Grelle tightly in her arms, resting her cheek on the top of her head. “You look beautiful, my sweet,” she said, eyes glowing with pride and admiration. Grelle melted in the other woman’s embrace as, yet again, she turned a glowing shade of red. There were far too many days when Grelle loathed her appearance, but for once, she felt soft, small, and immensely feminine. “My little flower,” Hannah whispered as she kissed Grelle’s hair reverently. The reaper covered her face with both hands, joyful tears flooding her eyes as she was overwhelmed with the magnitude of Hannah’s love. Her heart felt like a small cup that, after years of sitting cracked and empty, was filled with new wine, running over in abundance.


End file.
